An Alternate Ending
by Scarlett Hyde
Summary: Scarlett finds herself helping Connor and Haythem get information on the Britsh plans. On a rainy June 16th, she helps the Templar and Assassin capture three redcoats and take them to Fort George for interrogation. She plans to let the prisoners go, but Grandmaster Grumpy might have other plans. (Set during Alternate Methods.)
1. Chapter 1

I set off to meet Connor and Haythem in New York, leaving Dan and Baxter behind. Too many Alphians in one group was sure to arouse suspicion. It war time, that wouldn't do. Baxter was adamant about going; in the end, it took me threatening to tie him to a chair for him to give way.

It was late by the time I reached New York. My mount Raytheon, currently a dark bay horse as opposed to the usual dragon, snorted unhappily as he saw the scarlet coats of the guards at the gate. I gave him a quick pat on the neck. "I know, boy," I assured him in a hushed tone, "I don't like them any more than you do."

I gained a snort and head toss in reply. I rolled my eyes; Raytheon was as expressive as most humans I knew and just as smart, if not smarter, than some of them. We trotted up to the gate where one of the men stopped us.

"Halt!" he called, stepping up to us with his musket held across his front. His eyes were dull and half shut, although he was making an effort to look alert. Clearly he was tired, which was good news for me. The more tired he was, the less trouble I would have fooling him if need be. His companion, who was considerably more awake, would be harder.

"How goes it, gents?" I asked, forcing what I hoped to be a non-threatening grin. I had a bad habit of baring my teeth when I smiled, and most found it threatening if not disturbing. What could I say? I'm a predator.

"Well enough," the soldier replied, returning the peasantry. Seems as though my grin wasn't as threatening as I thought it'd be. The soldier gave me and my horse a once over. Finding nothing, he brought his muddy brown eyes up to meet my icy blue ones "What is your business in the town?" he asked me.

Oddly enough, there was no challenge in his tone. I'd have to remember him next time I came through. While I was not a fan of the "lobsterbacks", I did make a point to remember the ones who weren't total jerks.

"I'm meeting an old friend." _Well, that was partly true_ , I reflected as I thought about it. Connor was an old friend. Haythem, on the other hand, was the biggest pain in the rear this side of the Atlantic. Raytheon pawed the ground, eager to be on the way. I was with him; this was taking too long.

The soldier stepped aside to avoid getting his foot stomped on as the other redcoat marched up to us. "And just where is your permit?" he demanded haughtily.

My eyes narrowed at him and I had to clench my jaw to prevent from spitting out an insult. Oh… I would remember _him_.

The other soldier must have seen the warning in my eyes, for he gestured with his musket for the other man to stand down. "Peace, Terry. This young man is doing no harm," he said.

"I'm a girl," I muttered under my breath. Was I _that_ easy to confuse with a male? Sure my build was muscular and my stature intimidating, but still.

The two did not hear me. The jerk glanced at his mate, then snorted and stepped back. The other redcoat sighed and turned his tired gaze back to me. "Alright. Be on your way," he told me, gesturing with his musket for me to pass as he shifted to the side.

Raytheon gave a whinny as if to say, ' _Finally!_ ' I dipped my head to the soldier. "Thank you," I said. I didn't even get a chance to nudge Raytheon with my heels before he reared and took off down toward the docks. Headstrong beast, Raytheon was. Even worse than me at points. Were he human, I have no doubt he'd kill every redcoat he could.

It didn't take us long to make it to where Haythem was. I dismounted nearby and turned to look at Raytheon. "Behave," I told him, grabbing the bridle to hold his head still. "No more kicking redcoats." The last time he had done that he had almost dented the man's skull. Had I not been nearby, the man may not have made it. Thankfully he had survived, for he gave some much needed information in return for me saving his life.

Raytheon snorted, clearly disgruntled, but he bowed his head in silent agreement.

I gave him a pat on the nose before I loosened his girth and took the bridle off. He nickered happily, glad to have the cold metal bar out of his mouth. I didn't blame him. Normally, I could ride him bare back without a bridle, but since talking to animals was an Alphian skill, it'd draw to much attention. Oh, the things I did to avoid detection.

One particular incident popped up in my head just then, and I shuddered. No, I had _not_ wanted to start a "resistance war" with an arrogant British Dragoon. Ass hat.

Leaving my mount tethered where he was, I trotted quickly over to where Haythem was staring towards the sea. He looked at me from the corner of his eye as I came to stand beside him, mimicking his position with my hands held behind my back. He was wearing the usual getup with his cursêd hat. That hat. That **bloody** hat.

I had tried to get rid of the damned thing many times before. Without success. It was as if it was enchanted and couldn't be separated from his person. "Haythem," I greeted, glaring at his hat. How I wished for it to spontaneously combust.

Haythem didn't turn to acknowledge me. "Scarlett," he replied in return, reaching up to make sure his hat was on snug. "Why you insist on dressing in the garb of the Assassins is beyond my comprehension."

I snorted. While my hooded cloak did resemble those of the Assassins, I did not steal the design from them. Hooded cloaks were just a really good way to conceal one's identity. A fact I was quick to remind him of. "I don't align with the Assassins, and you know that," I growled, poking his shoulder with a finger.

He turned to face me, a deep frown on his face. "And yet you refuse to side with the Templar Order," he said, tone annoyed.

I rolled my eyes. Again with this. "We Alphians don't want nothin' to do with your Assassin vs. Templar shenanigans. How many times must I beat this into you, Hayth?" I muttered, crossing my arms. Why couldn't he just drop it? "I've said it before and I'll say it again. Alphians ain't here to fight your Earthian wars."

"And yet, here you are. Meeting with an Assassin and Templar to find out the plans of the British in order to aid the rebels," Haythem said. "What was that about not choosing a side?"

I glared at him, then gave a burdened sighed. "Your words are harsh. But, it pains me to admit you're right," I muttered, a faint snarl of anger buried in my words. I hated it when he was right.

A smirk flashed across the Grandmaster's face, but quickly disappeared. "So, do tell. Why did you choose to aid the rebels?" he inquired, leaning against a brick wall with his arms crossed.

I shrugged as I stood in front of him. "Dunno. Freedom and all that jazz, I guess. Yeah yeah," I snapped, waving him off angrily as I saw him open his mouth. I was there when he gave Connor the spill; I didn't need to hear it again. "Freedom leads to chaos, chaos is bad, blah blah blah. But, better to live in chaos as free men than in an ordered world as slaves," I explained. _Not to mention some if not most of the redcoat soldiers are absolute dickheads._

Haythem opened his mouth, no doubt to contradict my statement as per frickin usual, but a shifty looking man in dark clothes slithered up to us from the darkness. "Master Kenway?" he hissed at me in question.

I shook my head and pointed to Haythem. "That ol' geezer is Haythem," I informed the man. How could someone possibly mistake me for Grandmaster Grumpy?

His beady eyes narrowed at me. "Then who the hell are you?"

"The muffin man," I muttered sarcastically, rolling my eyes. _Who the hell did he think?_

Haythem shot me a glare before turning to the man. "Are you my informant?" he asked in a hushed tone.

I raised an eyebrow. _This_ was the man with the information? _Horet's teeth, informants must be scarce nowadays._

The man nodded vigorously. "Yes, sir. The name's Twitch," he said.

I gave a snort as the breeze blew the smell of him my way; smelled like soured grapes left in the sun next to some rotting fish. Drunkard. "Is it because your rank makes people's noses twitch?" I asked, tone nasally as I held my nose closed with my right thumb and forefinger.

Twitch glared at me and opened his mouth, but Haythem beat him to it. "Scarlett, _behave_ ," he all but growled. Most men would wet their pats if Haythem used that tone on them, but not me. Nope. I would just snap back.

"Bite me, Gramps," I growled as I unpinched my nose, a teeth baring smirk on my face.

Haythem gave me a glare that said _We'll finish this later_. I stuck my tongue out at him in response. He sighed then turned to Twitchy McGee. "We need to know what the loyalists are planning, if we are to put an end to this."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the hulking figure of Conner approaching. He wasn't wearing his signature white robes with blue trim; instead, he was wearing black robes with a red trim. Although massive, he was no taller than me. Probably shorter by an inch or two. While I was small by Alphians standards, for human I was a decent size and posed a credible threat to any human who (foolishly) chose to attack me.

I held out my hand to halt Connor as he began to approach his father, and the Native Assassin stopped as Twitch replied to Haythem. "I've tried," he insisted, gesticulating with his hands, "But the soldiers themselves are told nothing now, only to await orders from above."

Haythem scowled. That had _not_ been what he wanted to hear. "Then keep digging!" he hissed, tone sharp. "Come find me when you have something worth sharing."

Twitch nodded and hurried away, casting one more glare towards me before vanishing back into the dark city.

Haythem groaned as the man left. Pacing past us, he growled, "We're so close. A few more well placed attacked and we can put an end to this civil war and be rid of the Crown."

Connor spoke up from beside me, his monotonous voice soft as usual. "What do you intend?" he asked of his father, face a lifeless mask. I could almost never tell what was going through that boy's mind; the lack of emotional expression on his face and in his tone made it far too difficult.

He was like a painting or, a more accurate description, a stone wall. Stubborn as one too. However, I _could_ tell when he was mad. The trail of mutilated bodies was usually a pretty good indication he was pissed about something.

Haythem gave his son a heated glance. "Well nothing at the moment since we're _completely_ in the dark," he said irritably, throwing his hands up in the universal gesture of _I have no bloody clue_.

"I thought the Templars had eyes and ears everywhere?" Connor said, a slightly teasing tone in his voice. He knew what he had done.

Haythem, apparently, did too. "Oh we did," he began in a bitter tone. "Until _you_ started cutting them off." It was true; Connor had killed off many of Haythem's closest friends and advisers leaving perhaps Charles and one other. Not that I had lost any amount of sleep over it. Other than Pitcairn, who I was generally sad about, the others were Grade-A assholes.

"Your contact," Connor began, referring to Twitch. "Told us exactly what we need to do. Track down the loyalist commanders."

I nodded, seeing where he was going. Then I frowned. That was easier said than done. "How do you expect to do this, Connor? Find a lower guy and interrogate him?" I asked.

"Great idea. Scarlett, you go find one. Connor and I shall remain here," Haythem said to me.

 _Say what now?_ I glared at him, a low growl rumbling in my throat. When exactly did I volunteer to do that? Never, that's when. But... we _did_ need the information. Cursing Haythem under my breath, I stomped off to find a man to interrogate. I vaguely felt sorry for the poor blighter I would trap; I was sure to be rough with him should he refuse to cooperate.

I walked past a darkened alley where a rough voice called, "What's got you upset, Scar?" Turning to look down the alley, I quickly recognized the massive, muscular form of Mason Riddick, better known as Ace to most. A Furyan (pronounced Fury-an), he had a nasty temper and a tendency to be a loose cannon. Privates and officers feared him, and for good reason. Mercy was a foreign concept to the blood thirsty Furyan.

"I need to find a private to interrogate," I explained, glancing around to make sure no one heard as I approached him. When I turned back to Ace, the 7'4 guy was baring his teeth in a feral grin. I narrowed my eyes. "I need him unharmed," I growled, poking him in the chest as I stressed the last word.

He huffed, but said, "Fine. I won't hurt him. But if he is uncooperative-"

"Then I will deal with him. I don't need you hacking off any limbs," I interrupted, then added, "Again.". Last time I worked with him, the uncooperative redcoat had smarted off to Ace and had gotten his left arm chopped off via Ace's axe. Nearly bled to death. In all fairness, the guy was an ass.

With a growl that brought me back to the alley, Ace frowned unhappily. He didn't argue, but walked out of the alley to find a man to question.

I waited on a nearby crate, leaning against the wall. A small coal black kitten mewed and pawed at my pants leg. Figuring he wanted some scraps, I brought out my leftovers from the rabbit I had killed on the way to New York. I picked the little kitten up and sat him on my lap. Holding the piece of meat out, I chuckled as he quickly snatched it and scarfed it down. Then he clawed his way onto my shoulder and sat there purring. I chuckled and rubbed his ears.

Not too far off I heard a muffled scream of terror. I sighed, knowing Ace had caught one. Picking the kitten off my shoulder I said softly, "Go find a dark bay horse tethered by the docks. Stay with him." Setting the kitten down, I watched as it scurried off.

* * *

 _Alternate Methods from Scarlett's pov. If you want to read it from a soldier's pov, go to my profile and fine The Alternate._

 _Let me know if you'd like to see more!_


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn't 5 minutes before Ace came back. He had a struggling red coated private in his iron grip.

The young man's face was pale and terrified and he wriggling in a desperate attempt to escape. I knew was a futile effort, but the soldier didn't know that and continued. His desperate eyes landed on me and he began to make sounds that I knew were muffled cries for help.

I shook my head at him. "Don't be asking me for help, buster. I'm with him," I said, motioning towards Ace.

I could see the hope die in his eyes and his face fall. He gave a whimper, and stopped struggling. His trembling, however, worsened.

"But," I continued, and the hope flooded back. "I won't let him hurt you as long as you cooperate." I flicked my hand in a gesture for Ace to uncover the man's mouth.

The young man gasped out, "W-What do you want from me?" Clearly he was eager to be set free and get as far away from Ace as possible.

I didn't blame him. There was nothing nice about the way he looked, the way he walked, the way he moved his body. Ace was, simply put, f*cking terrifying.

"Simple. Where are your commanders?" I said pleasantly enough, keeping my voice calm for the Brit's sake. The less he was scared out of his wits, the easier it would be to understand him.

"I don't know, I swear!" the man yelped fearfully, shaking his head. To an inexperienced interrogator, he would appear to be telling the truth. But I was not inexperienced; he was lying. The avoiding eye contact was a main giveaway. So much for not scaring him, for now I had to.

Ace knew he was lying, too. I could tell from the blaze of furry in his eyes. Thankfully he refrained from hurting the man.

I glared at the soldier, walking forward until I was right in front of him. He was a foot smaller than me, about 5'5. He'd would have had to tilt his head back to look me in the eyes. But, he kept his eyes cast down.

 _Better fix that_.

I grabbed his chin roughly, causing him to gasp, and jerked it up. Now he had to meet my eyes. "I'll ask again," I growled, tone low and radiating with danger. "Where are your commanders?"

His lips quivered and his eyes darted between mine. His teeth chattered and his shoulders shivered madly as he whimpered.

I lowered my voice. "Last chance, kid."

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. "T-Trinity! Trinity Church! They're having a meeting at Trinity Church!" He looked ready to soil himself as he gave the news. Trinity Church was on the side of town that had been ravaged by a terrible fire back in September of '76. Now to get back and share the information with Connor and Haythem.

I gave the soldier a smile, albeit a slightly sadistic one paired with narrowed eyes. "Good boy," I purred. I released his jaw to ruffle his dark brown hair roughly. He must have lost his hat when Ace caught him.

He flinched and screwed his eyes shut. "Please... don't hurt me." He was once more avoiding my gaze. His shaking had grown worse and his teeth chattered in fear.

I looked up at Ace. He was glaring down at the soldier. I gave a grunt and he looked up and met my eyes. He raised an eyebrow, the question as clear as if he had spoken out aloud. _What do you want me to do with him?_

I remained silent as I contemplated, my fingers drumming on top of the soldier's head. Finally I sighed, fingers going still. "Keep him here until I come back," I said at last.

The soldier jerked his eyes up with a gasp, white as a sheet. "Don't leave me with him! Please!" he begged, eyes wide. He obviously was terrified of the thought of being left alone with a hot headed man who was known for being quite brutal to British troops. "I'll do anything! Don't let him hurt me!"

"Hush up." Ace covered the soldier's mouth with a massive paw. "You didn't cooperate. You don't get a say in this. You're lucky we haven't knocked you out."

The soldier whimpered, lowering his eyes. Faint sobbing came from him and he began to cry.

Poor guy.

"Relax, Ace," I said, bringing my eyes from the soldier. Now that my anger had subsided, I was feeling more in a clement mood. That and I couldn't help but feel sorry for the frightened soldier. He was no older than 18. "All it took was a little persuasion and he cooperated. No need to hurt him." I petted the soldier's head. "Besides, he'll not be any trouble, will you, mate?" I waited for the Brit to look up. When he didn't, I took the hand not on his head and tapped under his chin gently. "Hey, look up."

He hesitantly turned his eyes up to meet mine and gave a small nod.

"See, Ace?" I switched my gaze back to Ace. "He'll behave. No need to hurt him."

Ace gave a disbelieving snort, but didn't say anything about it. "So, what can I do with him then?" he growled, tightening his grip on the soldier.

The man gave a small whimper as the constrictor-like grip grew tighter, gasping for air through his nose. His eyes had gotten redder from tears.

"Well, don't hurt him, for starters," I said. I reached forward and tugged Ace's arms to loosen his grip. "Bind his hands if you want, but don't cut off the circulation. And for Alphia's sake, no teasing him. I think your bulk and mere presence is enough of a fear factor without you taking a knife to him." I really hoped Ace would listen to me and not hurt the guy. Contrary to popular rumor, I didn't like beating up or killing prisoners. That went for hostages, as well.

In all truth, Ace didn't like hurting or killing prisoners. Unless they lied, were troublesome, or backtalked. Then they could expect torture of some sort.

Ace growled, but said, "Fine. So long as he behaves."

"Thank you," I said, then looked back down at the redcoat.

His eyes pleaded, begged me to tell Ace to just let him go. _I'll be good_ , his eyes swore. _I won't tell anyone. Please, let me go_.

I said gently, "Let me tell you a little secret about Ace. He will only hurt those who hurt or try to hurt him. If you just cooperate with him, you will not be harmed. Understand me?"

He blinked, looking off to the side. He seemed to ponder for a moment. He then met my gaze and gave a slow nod.

Ace's grip immediately eased and the hand was removed from the young redcoat's mouth.

The soldier twisted his head and looked back towards Ace.

Ace cracked a small grin. "See? Cooperating with me is a sure way to stay on my good side."

The soldier blinked. "S-So… if I behave… you won't hurt me?"

"That is correct," Ace confirmed with a nod.

The soldier seemed to think it over. He was a smart kid. "I-I'll behave."

Ace gave him a pat on the head. "Good. You'll be glad you decided that."

I said, "I'd best be going. Hayth and Connor are waited. Remember Ace. No torture."

Ace pouted. Seeing a man his size pout never failed to amuse me. "Not even tickle torture?" he whined.

I sighed, rolling my eyes. "Ok, fine. You can do that. But only a little! No tying him down and taking off his boots like you normally would do."

The soldier was worried again. "Huh? T-T-Tickle torture?" he stammered.

"Yeah." I reached forward to poke him in the belly a few times. "Kinda works like that."

"Ah! Don't do that again, please!" he yelped.

Ace snickered. "No promises." He covered the soldier's mouth before the man could protest. He carried him into the shadows of the dark alley, the man struggling again. "Bye, Scarlett!"

After they had vanished, I ran back to where Haythem and Connor were waiting. Haythem was leaning on the wall while Connor paced back and forth. As I reappeared, both men looked over at me, eager to hear the information. "Well gents," I said in a forced cheery tone as I put my hands together. "Seems we got a meeting at Trinity Church to attend that I'd hate to miss." I tried not to worry about the prisoner Ace was keeping.

If the soldier ticked Ace off, it could be detrimental to the Brit's health. But the soldier seemed like a smart guy, at least smart enough to be respectful. He was scared to death of Ace, anyway. But he was in for it with the tickle torture. Ace would ignore my words and take his boots off.

"How did you acquire this information?" Connor asked, halting in his pacing.

I glanced over at him. _Should I tell him_? The Assassins, namely Achilles, were averse to working with the headstrong and aggressive Furyan. _To hell with it_ , I thought. "I had Ace catch and trap a redcoat private for me. After some persuasion, the man, or boy, I guess, gave up the information."

"Ace? Are you referring to the Alphian with the giant battle axe and a temper worse than a rabid dog?" Haythem asked. His brows shifted upward in surprise.

I glared at him, slightly ticked at the Templar calling one of my close friends a dog. He was more like a bee. Only attacked those who attacked him first and left the others alone. A killer bee, but still a bee. "He's a Furyan, actually, and yes, that's him. Look, are we gonna stand around discussing my connections and alternative methods, or are we going to go find out what the loyalists are planning?"

Haythem nodded. "Let's be off then, shall we?"


	3. Chapter 3

Our trip to the church was a quick one, taking almost no time. The fire had destroyed most of the buildings, leaving only hollow, ash stained shells. This made our route easier for we did not have to climb to the very top of building nor run through the twisting, time consuming alley ways. Reaching the church in a matter of mere minutes, we climbed, quietly, to the top where we crouched.

I let my eyes roam the shell below me; groups of guards, some sitting some standing, were huddled around small fires as three commanders stood in a tight circle, speaking in low, urgent tones. There were also guards watching the entrances carefully, gripping their muskets tightly. In total, there were 12 guards. Added to the three commanders, there were 15 total enemies below us.

A rumble of thunder from the angry black storm clouds above made me glance upward, a scowl on my face. Hopefully we could get this information quick and leave before it started to rain. I hated getting rained on. Made your clothes stick to you and made you feel cold and miserable overall. Not my idea of fun. Growling and shaking my head as a drop landed, I turned my gaze back down to listen to the officers' hushed conversation below us.

"Have you considered the proposal?" one of them asked, glancing at his companions.

The tallest one, a younger looking Brit with dark hair and a clean shaven face, shook his head. "I'm unconvinced. To reinforce them would leave New York exposed," he said, looking at his fellow officers meaningfully. "It's hard enough maintaining our position with our current numbers. Cut in half-"

"Yet if we do not join with them," one said, interrupting the other, "We risk defeat. Then what?"

The dark haired man scoffed. "Well they should have come by sea!" he exclaimed.

Haythem gave an irritated growl. "Oh, they're talking in circles," he spat in a hissed tone as he stood from his crouched position. "We'll learn _nothing_ watching as we are."

I narrowed my eyes at his words. What exactly did he plan to do? _If he's planning what I think he's planning... he'd better not be._

Connor was thinking the same as me. "What do you propose we do? March in there and demand answers?" he growled, gesturing with a hand towards the men below.

 _Please don't say it. Please don't say it-_

"Well, yes!" came the cheery reply.

 _And there it is._

Connor glanced at me, his eyes mirroring my own emotions. He was not happy with his father's decision. As he turned back to protest against the Grandmaster's absurd plan, he found himself talking to empty air; Haythem had already jumped.

As he landed on top of two unsuspecting regulars, he jammed his blades into the napes of their necks. Their shouts of pain and shock were abruptly cut off as blood sprayed, drenching Haythem. A brief pang of pity shot through me at their deaths. I may have been ruthless, but I was not cruel. At least it was a quicker death than some I had witnessed Haythem administer.

One of the officers, the dark haired one, cried out at the sight, "Ambush!" All heads turned towards Haythem, and the sitting redcoats scrambled to their feet, frantically reaching for their weapons. I sighed at this; little did they know they had no chance of defeating a Grandmaster, an Assassin, and an Alphian. They were done for.

"Connor, Scarlett? A little help here?" Haythem called from below, a little too cheekily in my opinion.

I glanced at Connor, who then glanced at me. We were thinking the same thing. Let Grandmaster Grumpy fend for himself. But, we couldn't do that. The risks were too great. With a screech, I leaped off the pedestal claws extended and teeth bared. I landed on the thick shoulders of an axe wielder, immediately ripping his throat open before he could retaliate. I jumped off as he fell, blood pouring from his throat.

I landed in front of a regular, teeth bared in a savage snarl.

His green eyes were fearful as he held his musket and bayonet towards me. There was obvious doubt on his face and in his stance; he did not want to fight me. I was bigger by at least a foot or more, and by the looks of his scrawny state, more muscular than he. When was the last time he even ate a good meal? My hand shot forward and hit his musket with such force I sent it spiraling out of his hands.

He gave a startled yell, watching the musket go spinning away from him. He turned his eyes back to me, the fear stronger. I felt a twinge in my gut as he took a step back, sheer terror in his eyes as he found himself defenseless before me. I couldn't kill him. He didn't look a day over 18. It wasn't his fault he got caught up in all this. I lunged forward and threw him against the wall.

He yelped as his back connected roughly with the burnt wall, breath huffing from his mouth. "Wait! Please!" he cried, struggling against me as I kept his shoulders pinned, my hands pressed firmly against them. "Spare me! I'm too young to die!"

I held his frightened gaze evenly, but moved my hand to the pressure point between his shoulder and his neck. He whimpered and panted heavily as his eyes darted from my hand to my face. "Sshhh... go to sleep," I told him gently, and pressed down on the spot. Hard.

He cried out in pain; while it was better than death, it still hurt. He did not try to fight me, however, and I occurred to me he must have known I was sparing his life. His eyes then rolled back in his head and he sagged in my grip. I let him go gently, then turned back to rejoin the fight.

I felt someone's eyes on me and I turned my head to meet one of the commander's bright blue and shocked gaze. He had seen me spare the young lad's life. I gave him a sly wink, then dove back into the fray.

It didn't take much longer to subdue to commanders with the combined efforts of Haythem, Connor, and I. Once they realized their guard were all dead, except for the 4 I had simply knocked out, the commanders dropped their weapons and began to cower against the wall. Haythem strode regally up to them, sheathing his bloody rapier. I followed close behind, spine tingling with anticipation and a slight degree of trepidation. Something was going to go wrong, I could feel it.

"Good evening, gentleman," Haythem said in his insufferably polite tone as he stood over the trembling commanders. "If you would be so kind as to enlighten us on your troop movements, we'll do this the easy way."

None of the commanders said a word, no doubt warned by the higher ups to keep the secret even at the cost of their lives. If they told, they could be severely punished. I didn't know the ins and outs, but I did know it involved 30 or more lashes with the cat-o-nine tails. Possibly worse things. The Brits shook their heads, the message clear. **We won't tell you anything.**

Haythem frowned, sighing in mock despair. "Very well. I had hoped to do this the easy way, but you forced my hand," he said, shaking his head before turning to me. "Scarlett?"

I sighed, reaching to pull some coils of rope from off my belt. "Yeah, yeah. Keep your pants on, Grandmaster Grumpy," I growled, stepping forward. I handed Haythem the coils then went to pull the officers to their feet. Inwardly, I cringed as I gripped the rightmost man's arm and pulled him up. These men would probably not live to see the dawn if Haythem had his way after all was done. I knew him... he would kill them once he got what he needed.

Before I could reach for the middle man, he and the leftmost man got to their feet without me laying a hand on them. Walking past them, I gave each a pat on the shoulder as I passed, both flinching. I blocked their escape from the left while Connor blocked the right. With Haythem in the middle, they had nowhere to run. They knew this as well as I did, for they quietly presented their hands for Haythem to tie when he drew close.

First tying the dark haired officer's wrists, Haythem moved on to the next man. I stood in front of them now, as did Connor. Letting my gaze roam over the men, I peered at the middle man closely. A second later my eyes went wide. I knew him. _Damn it, I know that man. Henry Stevenson. You bastard, you're back at it again._

Two years ago I had found him wounded in the woods, shot by a Patriot as he was fleeing from them and then was left to die. I was stuck with him for about two weeks before he eventually was well enough to be sent back. I never told him my name, for it'd just be too complicated. I couldn't let him die. Not then, and I wouldn't tonight. I promised him I wouldn't. I always kept my word.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the dark haired man picking at the knots desperately, trying to loosen them. I lifted my eyes towards his face and waited for him to lift his eyes. When he did, and saw me glaring at him, his face and eyes flooded with a blind sense of fear. It was the kind that locked up every muscle in your body, stopped your heart, tightened your chest, and sent your churning stomach to your feet.

I looked down at his hands, then looked back up at him. His panicked eyes met mine as a tremor went through him. I held his gaze, then slightly jerked my head towards the left (his right) in a signal for him to, if he could, escape. I knew we needed the information, and I knew he would squeal about us killing his entire guard, but I felt a need to give him a chance at life.

Thick confusion swam into his eyes, and I jerked my head to the left again. Still nothing. I scowled, shaking my head at his stupidity. Then I turned my gaze away from him. If he didn't understand by now, I couldn't help him anymore. My motives were often misunderstood and contradictory to each other, and most didn't understand why I did the things I did. Sometimes, not even I knew.

"We'll take them back to my quarters at Fort George and see what secrets they might share," Haythem growled, tightening the ropes around the third man's wrist. The man winced, eyes glancing up towards Haythem.

Movement from the blue eyed officer's direction caught my attention again, and I looked over just as he slipped free of his bonds. Wasting no time, he made a run for it, going as fast as he could.

Haythem, unfortunately, noticed. "Really?!" he exclaimed, tone highly annoyed.

All heads turned to watch the fleeing man, who turned his head to look back once. My eyes said only one thing. _Run. Run as fast as you can._


End file.
